


That Feel When Your Period Comes Early and Your Giant Boyfriend Has to Take Care of You™

by Candybara



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Blood, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Menstruation, Mild Sexual Content, Naked Cuddling, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Showers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6378217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candybara/pseuds/Candybara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're bleeding," Murasakibara stated after a moment, the arid echo of his voice bearing no semblance of annoyance or disgust, even despite the fact that he would clearly rather be sleeping at that moment. You blinked through a thinning haze of drowsiness and watched him shuffle out of his sweatpants, gray fabric stained a deep shade of red where his knee had previously been wedged between your legs. </p><p>It was only then that you became cognizant of the premature ooze of blood that stained the insides of your thighs, the dark mottle of dead tissue that marred your flesh with a new cycle of menses. The onset of cramping was already starting to spread through your core in the form of a dull ache, one that you dreaded, but it was far too early for pain medication and far too late to concern yourself with stemming the flow of your own vitality, so you simply muttered a bashful apology and kept your legs pressed firmly together as you waited for the shower to run warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Feel When Your Period Comes Early and Your Giant Boyfriend Has to Take Care of You™

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I wanted to take a break from writing pure, smuttastical filth, so I dug this out of my drafts and cleaned it up a bit (AKA I tripled it in length and gave myself writer's block during the process of perfecting it, or at least making it good enough to post here). 
> 
> To be quite honest, I don't even know what's happening here. It's just very fluffy and probably cute? Young in-love dorks being idiots. Just call it experimentation, if you will.
> 
> Enjoy!

Murasakibara awoke to the flow of something warm and sticky against the careful press of his thigh, still positioned snugly between your legs as it had been hours earlier, just before he had settled into the soothing weight of sleep. He blinked slowly, mind churning to clear the thick blur of grogginess that hung from his lashes, despite the fact that it was dark even yet and he probably could have succeeded in going back to bed if he tried hard enough.

The tacky stream of moisture felt strange against his pant leg, far too extensive to be the result of some filthy sex dream. He had no doubt you were capable of such a thing, but he knew damn well what your arousal felt like and he could tell at mere touch that something was off.

Slowly, being wary not to disturb you when you looked so peaceful in your slumber, Murasakibara dipped his hand into the crevice between your legs. He tried to refrain from touching you directly, merely letting his fingers dance across the lining of your inner thighs until he felt your warmth coat his skin with a dark substance which he quickly recognized as blood, even under the dimly sifting flutter of moonlight through hastily drawn curtains.

He crinkled his nose at the foul, rusty scent of decaying flesh and, without delay, flipped the sheets down to the foot of your bed, swiftly and easily exposing the bare expanse of your skin to a crisp zephyr of cool night air. Your flesh prickled through a gentle shiver as Murasakibara sat up off the edge of the mattress, stepping around a mess of discarded clothes to scoop you up into his arms.

He held you with more tenderness than ever, taking care to slide one hand up under the bend of your knees while the other held your head in place against the broad slope of his shoulder. The press of his frame seeped warmth into your skin as he hugged you to his chest in a manner that seemed almost protective in nature, even though he knew enough about the way your body worked to understand that you would be more than fine once you had gotten yourself cleaned up and back into bed.

Still, something in him wanted to coddle you to the ends of the earth, to defend you from the presence of whatever nonexistent threat that seemed to hang endlessly over his head and yours, whether by sensation or perception.

Maybe he was simply getting too philosophical about life and death and everything in between. Well, he supposed that was how he knew he truly loved you.

The steady pad of footsteps from carpet to wood to tile slowly lulled you into consciousness, and you could only just make out the disheveled fall of Murasakibara’s hair as you peered up at him through a drowsy mist of sleep. His expression appeared strangely stoic despite the weary droop of his eyelids, his bangs resembling a curtain of soft, purple locks that hung tousled with sleep and sex from the evening before.

You could only manage a questioning groan through the flashing pain behind your eyes as the searing gleam of your bathroom light flickered on, but Murasakibara remained strangely quiet as he sat you all too carefully against the edge of the bathtub, fingers already working to strip you free of your oversized hoodie (his hoodie, really) before sliding down to hook around the waistband of your soiled underwear.

“Wh… Huhh?” You managed, your voice thick and raspy from disuse, though you lifted your hips regardless when you felt the gusset of tainted cotton catch against your skin.

"You're bleeding," Murasakibara stated after a moment, the arid echo of his voice bearing no semblance of annoyance or disgust, even despite the fact that he would clearly rather be sleeping at that moment. You blinked through a thinning haze of drowsiness and watched him shuffle out of his sweatpants, gray fabric stained a deep shade of red where his knee had previously been wedged between your legs.

It was only then that you became cognizant of the premature ooze of blood that stained the insides of your thighs, the dark mottle of dead tissue that marred your flesh with a new cycle of menses. The onset of cramping was already starting to spread through your core in the form of a dull ache, one that you dreaded, but it was far too early for pain medication and far too late to concern yourself with stemming the flow of your own vitality, so you simply muttered a bashful apology and kept your legs pressed firmly together as you waited for the shower to run warm.

You kneaded your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes downcast and face as red as the blood gathering between your thighs. You knew there was no use in worrying about being a bother, an inconvenience, if you would, but it could hardly have been later than two in the morning and Murasakibara had the misfortune of needing to be at his school gymnasium for basketball practice by dawn at the latest.

And yet there he was, sealed away with you in a bathroom that was far too brightly lit for such an ungodly hour while your own body decided to shed an entire layer of your uterus. How wonderfully convenient.

You let out a heavy sigh and Murasakibara must have sensed your discontentment because little time passed before you felt a giant hand give your head an affectionate pat, fingers threading messy ruffles through your hair as if you were some kind of small child receiving shallow praise.

"It's okay," he smiled through his usual, monotonous drawl. "I know you didn't mean to."

His palm slid down to cup your cheek and you nuzzled into his touch, thoroughly savoring the warm sense of tenderness that flooded your stomach with butterflies as his thumb stroked idle yet soothing circles against your temple. You reached up to run your fingers over the back of his hand, taking note of the way his movements stiffened and slowed once you began gently tracing the jut of his knuckles.

You had always felt small around him, but especially during moments like these, when you realized that nearly half of your face was able to fit comfortably in the heft of his palm and even still he never handled you with anything other than delicacy and affection. You wondered if he saw you as fragile, if he saw _everything_ as fragile. Part of you was thankful for his self-awareness, as he was almost certainly capable of more danger than he let on. The other, less cautious side of you wanted to see what happened when he truly let himself go.

You set a mental reminder to test the boundaries of his control at the next possible opportunity.

Steam was already starting to fill the room with the kind of heat that made the walls perspire and the mirrors lose their iridescence to a slow rise of fog, so you somewhat lazily allowed Murasakibara to tug you to your feet, guiding you over puddle-slicked tiles and under a relaxing stream of scalding water. Just the way you liked it.

You ducked under the shower head to wet your hair before drawing back, finding something calming about the way humidity fell in tiny droplets off the swoop of your lashes and further trickled down the curves of your cheeks. A smile teased at your lips as warmth enveloped your body in a cleansing drizzle of tranquility, the tension in your limbs already beginning to uncoil around a slow hint of relaxation and leave you to slip into peaceful repose.

Blood ran pink in rivulets along the insides of your legs and pooled at your feet before swirling down the shower drain, and it felt surprisingly satisfying to watch. Murasakibara’s chest was pressed up against your back, his arms slung casually over your shoulders in what seemed like a halfhearted attempt to drape his body over your own. He leaned into your frame, his chin resting against the top of your head, and simply stood there with you in intimate silence for a long while.

“Does it hurt?” He finally asked.

You found yourself confused, not exactly sure what he meant by that.

“When…?” You prodded.

“When you’re on your period.”

“Oh.” _Duh_ , you thought to yourself at his clarification. _What else could he have possibly been referring to, dummy_? You quickly brushed it off. “Sometimes. Not in the way you’re probably thinking, though.”

“Mmh…” He hummed, his usual affirmation. “What’s it feel like?”

You mulled it over for a moment.

“Like a gremlin is trying to eat its way out my insides.”

“That sounds gross,” was his only response.

You let out a short laugh. “It is.”

Murasakibara fell silent again, though it seemed like he had more that he wanted to ask you. You decided to leave him be and simply shifted your weight onto your other foot, feeling the hair on the back of your neck rise through a suppressed shiver when his fingertips unintentionally grazed your midriff.

“Hey,” he started again, after some time. “What does it feel like when you come?”

You felt yourself blanch, and then your face flushed hot with embarrassment. As usual, the boy had no shame. Though you supposed it was a reasonable thing to ask, especially considering the number of times he had made you writhe and thrash against the sheets of your bed, made you moan and whimper through a sudden surge of satiated bliss even as he tirelessly brought you to completion again and again.

“Ummm…” You tried, trying to shake the thought from your mind, in all its salacity. You knew the feeling well, but you had absolutely no idea how to put it into words. You struggled to think of an example, something another person had said, anything at all to help you describe that indescribable sensation.

“I-I guess it’s like that really nice feeling you get right after you sneeze… Except better.” Really? _Sneezing analogies_? Go you.

“Hmmm…” Murasakibara droned, sounding surprisingly like he knew exactly what you were talking about. Maybe it was a decent comparison after all.

“It feels really good when you do it,” you continued, your cheeks already starting to burn with the aftereffects of your own bold admission. You felt Murasakibara relax a little at that and you knew your comment had done well for his pride, but you swore you could feel his heart drumming through chest like a rapid flutter against your shoulder, and you momentarily entertained the idea that he was growing just as flustered as you were.

“Ehhh~” He sounded pleased enough either way. “I’m glad.”

You smiled softly and the environment faded back into a leisurely silence, the only sounds remaining being your and Murasakibara’s slow breathing and the steady stream of hot-turned-lukewarm water that pattered and echoed off the bathroom walls.

“…What does it feel like for you?” You finally asked, reaching up to idly toy with the pads of his fingers, which were at least twice as thick as your own.

“Mmmmmmmm…” You felt him shift and lean further into your body as he pondered the inquiry, and you absentmindedly noticed that the weight of his chin was no longer present against the crown of your head. “Like peeing really hard.”

You tried to stifle a snort, but mirth was making for a relentless pressure against your diaphragm and soon enough you were busting out in full-blown laughter, airy giggles pouring from your parted lips like the water flowing from the shower head above you, and you could feel Murasakibara bristling against your back but you kept on chortling until your sides were aching and tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“What? Why are you laughing?” He scowled, his voice dipping down into that low, ominous threshold that always made your heart pound against your ribcage and your flesh erupt under the faintest rush of adrenaline. “What’s so funny?”

He pulled away from you just enough to make you miss the closeness of his body, but you could still feel the wet strands of his hair clinging to the nape of your neck, and you wondered how he could possibly stand comfortably being bent so far over your frame, as you, like most any normal person, were significantly shorter than him, and you were certain some contortion would be required to allow for you to feel his locks against your skin from such an angle.

He seemed not to mind, though, rather more concerned with your sudden outburst of sniggers and titters, which you could hardly blame him for. You barely had any idea yourself why you had found his response so funny.

“Heh… Sorry, Atsushi,” you managed, still trying to catch your breath. “I just… That was strangely specific.”

Murasakibara grumbled something incoherent and pressed his forehead to the back of your shoulder, but he made no objections when he felt you lace your fingers in between his own, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. The shower was starting to run cold at that point so you took a step forward to adjust the temperature, emitting a sigh of contentment as the smooth flow of water gradually slipped back into a pleasant warmth.

“Sometimes it even feels better than eating sweets,” he drawled at last, “when it’s with you.”

You felt yourself smile somewhat teasingly. “Better than sweets? I must be some serious dynamite in the sack.”

“Mmh… You are.”

You blushed a little at that, not having expected him to so openly agree with you when you were only mostly joking. He must have meant it, though, seeing as he had never been the type to provide untrue compliments, and the knowledge of that was starting to make your heart pound with satisfaction and your chest swell with pride.

“Ah, th-thanks…” You murmured, probably a bit too quietly.

He hummed again in acknowledgement and flexed his fingers against your palm, but he still kept a firm grasp on your hand like he never wanted to let go. It was sweet, very much so, but your arm was quickly starting to grow tired and you had no desire to completely empty your house of hot water, so you made to turn the shower handle off before stepping gingerly out of the tub, tugging a lethargic Murasakibara along behind you.

You pulled two towels from a nearby rack and slung one of them over your shoulder, turning to work the other through your lazy lover’s dampened locks. He peered down at you with something that seemed like intrigue as you massaged his scalp with a shawl of plush absorbance, drying his hair as best you could for no other reason than simply because you wanted to.

Once his bangs were no longer dripping with the final manifestations of his late night shower, you set to work wiping yourself clean of excess water, taking care not to bloody the towel in your hands when you slid the porous fabric between your thighs. Then you gathered up your previously discarded clothes, slipping the soft weave of your (his) hoodie back over your head before swiping a cotton pad from under the sink.

You visibly shivered as you exited the humid heat of the bathroom, your skin prickling under the cool darkness of the hallway it connected to even as you followed the walls all the way back to the privacy of your bedroom. You made straight for your dresser to retrieve a fresh pair of underwear, quickly slipping them over your legs as you waited for Murasakibara to shut the door behind him.

The pad stuck messily to the fabric lining your gusset and it felt as uncomfortable as ever against the crevice of your thighs, but you paid it no mind as it was something that had to be done. You dropped your previously soiled underwear into a nearby laundry basket, noting that Murasakibara had opted to drape his stained pair of sweatpants neatly over the edge of the hamper.

You felt your pulse quicken a bit. How adorably considerate of him.

You found that he had already sunk back into the mattress by the time you crawled under the sheets next to him, probably half-asleep by then, knowing how easy it was for him to doze off. Your hair was still wet and clinging awkwardly to the sides of your face, and you were sure it would make for an atrocious bed head by the time you woke up later in the morning, but it had been a long night and you were tired and more than ready for a second attempt at sleep.

The last thing you felt before drifting off into what you hoped would be an easy slumber was the secure warmth of Murasakibara’s arms around your waist and his breath against the back of your neck, slow and smooth like the steady drip of water that echoed in the back of your mind.

You dreamt of him and rainy evenings, and you had never slept so soundly in your life.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I've actually known someone who said that coming felt like peeing really hard. And yes, I found it just as hilarious then as I do now. You're welcome.


End file.
